


Two of a Kind

by sylvanWhispers



Category: South Park
Genre: Body Image, Canon Compliant, Craig's Gang, Gen, M/M, Sexuality Crisis, Unhealthy Dieting, not very serious though, ship is background to the friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-03-29 08:54:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13923699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sylvanWhispers/pseuds/sylvanWhispers
Summary: No one was entirely sure how their friendship worked as well as it did, but it was generally understood that Clyde had somehow gotten all of the emotion Craig wasn’t using, while Craig himself got all of Clyde’s sense.(Two oneshots where Clyde supports Craig, Craig supports Clyde, and both of them are pretty bad at it but things work out anyway.)





	1. Chapter 1

_"You actually went to that fucking art fair!?"_

Craig was not the sort of guy who shouted. Shouting required a level of emotional investment and fucks given of which he was generally incapable. Strong, outward displays of emotion had never been his thing.

But to have Clyde stand there in all his dopey enthusiasm, clutching several glossy prints depicting Craig pushing second base with Tweek Tweak? It was enough to send anyone over the edge.

“Yeah! It was great. And afterwards my dad was all ‘you can talk to me about anything Clyde’ and gave me twenty dollars,” Clyde said, practically bouncing in place. His cheeks were still flush from the cold outside and he'd clearly rushed himself straight over from the fair. “Qian Li gave me a really good deal on a commission too! I really like the way she colors, look -”

“ _Why!?_ ” Craig’s fists were shaking. “You know I’m not gay, dude!”

Clyde’s brow furrowed slightly. One could practically see the dusty cogs slowly turning in his head and Craig waited with mounting frustration and dismay.

“...So you’re bi?” He immediately perked up. “That’s cool, man! Kenny’s shown me these videos -“

“I already told you to keep your filthy porn swap to yourself!” Craig said, recoiling. “And no! This is all just - it’s a stupid fucking rumor or some shit. I like girls! _Just_ girls!”

For several more long moments they stood there in silence, staring at each other as the words presumably made their way through Clyde’s thick skull. 

It was all just too fucking much - even Token and Jimmy had been taken in by this nonsense, whispering with the other guys about how the asians could have the power to turn anyone gay. Looking at him with those helplessly confused, almost wary expressions.

Clyde took two steps forward before placing a hand on Craig’s shoulder.

“It’s okay, man. You’re my best friend. The same old Craig as ever.” Clyde shrugged. “Besides, I always kinda suspected.” 

“You’ve always…” Craig felt something in his brain fizzle out like a fried lightbulb. “You what.”

“I mean you never wanted to talk about girls,“

“You mean not in the way _you_ talk about girls -"

“And you never really wanted to hang out with your girlfriends when you had them?” Clyde continued. “I wasn’t gonna say anything, but…” 

He made a vague hand waving gesture. 

Craig roughly shoved the other boy away, yanking the drawings from his hands and feeling the high-grade paper crumple with grim vindication.

“Get out! _Get the fuck out_!”

Clyde was many things but brave was rarely one of them. The bedroom door swung shut in the wake of his hasty retreat, leaving Craig standing amongst scraps he couldn’t even stand to look at.

Getting pissed at Clyde more often than not felt like kicking a puppy - the guy had a real talent for making one forget he was a tool in his own right - but Craig couldn’t care about that right now. South Park might play at being “politically correct” right now, but he knew the jokes and slurs that were as ever ingrained in this town. He’d made his own share. The whole facade of being progressive was bound to peter out eventually, and then he was never going to be Craig Tucker again - just Craig the Gay Kid. To his friends, to his parents, to everyone he met. His life as he knew it would be over.

Leave it to Clyde Donovan, in his simple little world, to think everything could be solved with porn.

That night Craig lay in bed, fearfully staring at the ceiling. If even his best friend had been fooled, the situation was serious and wasn’t going to solve itself. He needed a plan.

* * *

 

The plan had been a disaster, albeit a successful one. Craig should’ve known not to get optimistic about anything in this town, but Tweek fucking Tweak busting out hitherto unknown acting chops was not something he’d predicted. 

Craig stayed out in the yard long after Tweek left, spinning the pedals on his bike and watching the rotary blur of the wheels, his own words echoing around in his head.

_I can’t be something because everyone wants me to be._

Craig had meant the words when he said them. Or he thought he did. So why did they leave such a bad taste in his mouth? A weight seemed to be pressing down on his chest and he didn’t know where it came from or what to do about it. 

Emotions, he concluded, were shit and he had been far better off steering clear of them.

Eventually dusk fell and the yard grew cold, and his mom called him inside. He ate dinner in silence, unable to make eye contact with anyone, and then went straight to his room to sit in the dark like an emo loser. 

_I have to be myself._

God, why did that bother him so fucking much? Maybe Craig wasn’t interested in girls, but that was normal right? He figured it would happen eventually. Clyde and McCormick were the freaks, not him.

Against his better judgement, Craig reached into the wastepaper basket at his bedside, slowly uncrumpling one of the drawings he’d taken from Clyde. Thankfully it was one of the tamer ones: him and Tweek pressed together and holding hands on a couch. The sight of it did strange things to Craig’s stomach. 

The only boy he remembered holding hands with was Kenny for the school trip to Pioneer Village. It hadn't been... a _bad_ experience, but an undeniably platonic one. Casual. This scene the asian girls created didn't look like either of those things.

Tweek would probably hold his hand tighter than Kenny did. With all that twitching he probably wasn't always aware of just how strong his grip was. Craig didn't think he would mind.

He hastily threw the drawing back into the bin but it was too late; a warm feeling had already begun to spread through his chest and over his cheeks.

Just like that it was like the stages of grief decided to take a line dance through his brain - denial switched hands with anger, which spun into bargaining. It wasn’t _fair_ for him to be this way, and it wasn’t fair that he’d found out this way either. Maybe he was wrong, maybe he could cover it up, maybe he could change. There was still a chance he could let this blow over. The plan had worked - in time he could convince the others that it was all misunderstanding. The incident would be forgotten and then Craig could live like normal in the lie he’d made. 

Depression had long taken bargaining's place by the time his father came in, saying all the things Craig should have been happy to hear. But it was hard to celebrate his dad's acceptance when his own acceptance of the situation was still pending.

Maybe he wasn’t straight. That didn’t mean he was any more prepared for the consequences.

_Go be gay with someone else._

Tweek wasn’t gay. He’d said so... but he still wanted to get "back together". With Craig opting out, did that mean he was really going to find some other guy? Tweek being fake gay, Craig being fake straight - how fucked up would that be? But if Tweek was going to do it anyway…

Craig was a lot of things. Selfish may have been one of them.

* * *

 

Craig put off visiting Clyde for as long as he could. Part of him hoped that the other boy would break first, as he usually did whenever they had a falling out. After all Craig wasn’t in the habit of chasing after anyone, or even giving the impression that he cared enough to. Unfortunately his little outburst over the yaoi had apparently scared Clyde a little too much this time. 

What a baby.

The weekend was nearly over and Craig simply wasn’t going to face the guys on Monday without his best friend in his corner. Besides, if he put off making up just to avoid an ‘I told you so’, who looked like the asshole? Craig. And who hated to apologize? Also Craig. So just this once he'd be generous and make the first move.

He stood at the front step, listening to the familiar tune of the Donovans’ doorbell. When the door finally opened it was with slow caution.

“Hey man,” Craig said, awkwardly scratching an itch he didn’t have under his hat.

“Hey.” Clyde returned, drumming his fingers warily on the door.

“So.” 

There was a lengthy pause. 

This was unprecedented. They weren’t like Marsh and Broflovski for fuck’s sake, with all their theatrics and drama. Usually all one of them had to do was show up and the unspoken ‘I don’t want to fight anymore’ would be enough to continue as if nothing happened. 

“Token says he saw you and Tweek on Friday,” Clyde said finally. “And I heard you two hung out yesterday.” 

“Yeah.” 

Gaming with Tweek had been good, so good even that Craig could completely ignore the townsfolk spying on them through the window.  The butterflies he got every time his  _boyfriend_  smiled at him were one hell of a distraction. His boyfriend, who apparently had more balls than Craig could dream of having himself, because later that fateful Friday afternoon Tweek had turned to him and said “S-so, uh, is it a deal breaker if I’m actually gay?” Maybe this whole communication thing he kept hearing about had some merit after all. 

Craig cleared his throat. “Look I wasn’t fucking lying, alright? Me and Tweek weren’t dating. And I’m not a cheat! But I guess we are dating now. It’s not a big deal.”

“I’m confused,” Clyde said blankly.

“You’re always fucking confused, Clyde.”

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “But we’re not fighting anymore, right? You’re not mad at me?”

“No.”

“And you’re going to pay me back the $15 I spent on Qian’s commission?”

“Don’t push your luck,” Craig said, pressing past him and inviting himself inside. “What kind of asshole bursts into another man’s sexuality crisis waving gay smut around?”

“I didn’t know!” Clyde exclaimed, swinging the door shut. “And take off your shoes, dick.”

And just like that they moved on. Craig might talk shit about the other boy not being the sharpest tool in the shed, but god help anyone else who did. It was pretty clear at this point that Clyde’s simple, sentimental mind was a key component to their friendship’s longevity.

Maybe Craig’s life was going to be different from now on, or at least different in key ways from what he’d imagined... but he had a boyfriend, and still had his best friend, and so the new normal wasn’t looking so bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Literally hammered this out in a single evening because the world needs more Craig&Clyde bromance and I'll likely never get over the fact that Clyde actually went to the yaoi fair. 
> 
> My brand new South Park blog is southparkstrandee.tumblr if anyone's curious ;o


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place immediately after s11e14, "The List"

“What the hell is your problem?”

Clyde kept his eyes stubbornly on his food tray, even as he felt that heated gaze boring into him.

“Don’t you fucking ignore me, asshole.” Craig kicked Clyde under the table. “I’ve had it with your sulky bullshit.”

“Leave him alone dude,” Token said with a nudge. “He’s fine. You know how Clyde gets.”

A muscle in Clyde’s jaw twitched. The hell was that supposed to mean?

“I know he’s a weepy bitch,” Craig said. “No one heard me whining when I ranked twelve.”

It had been a few days since the real list was released and Craig took Clyde’s old spot at #1 while the latter dropped down to 13. It was last week’s news and most everyone had moved on - even the scandal of a gun on the school roof wasn’t enough to capture South Park’s short attention span for long.

Clyde didn’t want to be the only person who wasn’t over it. Maybe he wouldn’t be so bothered if he hadn’t had the rug pulled out from under him, or maybe if his friends hadn’t ranked so high. Token immediately followed Craig at #2 and even Jimmy was in the top ten.

Another kick nailed him in the knee.

“Jesus!” He snapped up and finally locked eyes with Craig. “Fuck you!”

“Fuck _you_!” Craig fired back. “Lunch is nearly over, moron. You going to do something with your food other than stare at it or what?”

Clyde glared at him for a long moment. He then pointedly rose from his seat, tray in hand, and took three strides to the neighboring table. He dropped the untouched food in front of Kenny, instantly crushing whatever scraps had been in the brown paper bag the boy had brought, and then with eye contact maintained, flipped Craig the bird.

Craig’s jaw fell open slightly, his expression caught between rage and utter confusion. Clyde promptly turned heel and pushed through the cafeteria doors, Kyle’s bewildered words breaking the silence behind him.

“What the _fuck_ was that about?”

* * *

 

Clyde had never been unhappy with his appearance before. Never had a reason to be. Obviously he was missing something.

He stared critically into his mirror, as he tended to do more often these days, and poked his stomach. So maybe he _was_ the second biggest kid after Cartman, but Eric was in a league of his fucking own. It didn’t mean anything. Besides, with all the sports Clyde played, how could he be unhealthy?

Then again, with all of the sports he played… shouldn’t he be thinner?

Maybe his mom was a bit generous with her portions. The baking was also a potential factor. There was a whole shelf of Dutch family recipes downstairs, and with his sister never showing an interest before leaving for school, Clyde’s mom had lured him in with the promise of baked goods if he let her teach him. It was his one of his deeper secrets; god only knew how much shit the guys would give him if they found out he spent weekends making appeltaart and Bossche bollen.

His mom had more than once expressed concern about Craig being too skinny when he came over, and the boy was admittedly a _lot_ thinner than Clyde. And apparently a lot better looking.

The unpleasant feeling that began to seep throughout Clyde’s chest wasn’t jealousy, but despair.

He had seen his share of teen dramas (only because nothing else was on tv, honest!) and knew the tropes, but it had never occurred to him that he might actually be the dumpy loser friend of his group.

Token and Jimmy were both ridiculously popular and ridiculously smart. Craig was rightfully considered one of the coolest and toughest kids in school. For Clyde it seemed to be different. He was on all the sports teams and actually good at them, wasn’t that supposed to count for something? Yet people had been commenting on the strangeness of his and Craig’s friendship for years - the stoic troublemaker and the emotional jock, who only had a quiet disposition and a certain voice pitch in common.

Oh god.

Clyde was literally the designated ugly fat friend of the gang. The less attractive, less smart, pudgy loser who had the tendency to cry where other people could see. 

As if on cue, his eyes began to burn and he valiantly resisted the urge to punch them in frustration. He could come back from this. He just needed a plan. There wasn’t much he could change about his face or his moods, but losing weight wasn’t that hard right? 

People did it all the time. 

* * *

 

Eating less seemed simple enough. The days where his parents were too busy to pack lunch were easiest, because cafeteria food was gross and Clyde didn’t mind wasting most of it. The days his mom packed lunch were a bit more difficult.

For some reason, the idea of asking her to pack less food made him uncomfortable. She’d want to know why, and Clyde felt strangely embarrassed; as if admitting he wasn’t happy about it was worse than the shame of being overweight in the first place. He didn’t want to examine the feeling too much, so he didn’t.

Unsurprisingly, things with the gang moved forward as if his outburst had never happened. However, every lunch hour Clyde could still feel Craig’s critical eyes on him.

“Are you after McCormick’s dick or something?” Craig demanded after watching Clyde split his lunch with Kenny for the fourth day in a row. “Because I’ve got to tell you, I don’t think it requires this much investment.”

“Fuck you dude!” Kenny said in his muffled-but-still-intelligible way.

“My mom gives me too much, okay? It’s not a big deal,” Clyde said as Kenny shuffled back to his own table with a tupperware of bitterballen.

“It looked like the same amount she always gives you.”

“So?”

Jimmy and Token exchanged tentative glances.

“I th-th-think it’s great. Sharing food with Kenny is a r-really n-nice thing to do,” Jimmy said.

“Yeah. If Clyde’s not that hungry anyway, it’s not a big deal.” Token nodded.

Craig’s eyes seemed to narrow dangerously for a moment, but then Clyde blinked and his friend’s face was perfectly blank once more.

“Whatever.”

* * *

 

 

The situation went dormant, with Craig saying no more on the topic and not even even looking up anymore when Clyde divided his lunch everyday. The next incident was days later. 

Craig had come over to play video games after school, and watched with cold blue eyes as Clyde ate a portion of his chicken nuggets, waited for his mom to leave the room, and then fed the rest to Rex. 

He rose to his feet so quickly and solemnly that it made Clyde jump.

“Dude, what’s wro-“

“I just remembered I have to be somewhere. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Where are you - ?” But Craig had already made his way to the front, slipped his shoes and coat on, and shut the door behind him with a definitive thud.

Clyde stared after him uncomprehendingly. Craig being in a bad mood was far from unheard of. Rarely expressing his emotions, he preferred instead to let his anger quietly build until it boiled over into something that landed him in detention. No one ever wanted to be there when the eruption happened, but the timing was fairly unpredictable.

Clyde sighed and rubbed his forehead, trying to squash the images of food that were dancing through his mind. He was a little sleepier these days and found himself thinking about eating pretty much constantly, but aside from that he felt fine. He couldn’t tell from looking in the mirror if anything had changed, but maybe in another week there’d be a difference. How the hell did bodies work anyway?

* * *

 

 

Craig remained uncharacteristically quiet over the following days and Clyde knew his friend well enough to be wary. Something was coming, but he didn’t have the means to foresee what until it happened.

“It’s Taco Tuesday. You want to go?” 

Clyde blinked and glanced away from his locker.

“What?”

Craig raised an impatient eyebrow, his hands shoved into his pockets.

“Discount tacos, genius,” he said patronizingly slowly. “I’m hungry, school’s out, let’s go.”

“Oh.” Clyde swallowed and tried to cover the twitching in his hands by slamming his locker shut. “No thanks dude. You go ahead.”

Craig’s eyes narrowed in that same unsettling manner as that day in the cafeteria.

“It’s Taco Tuesday,” he said again, with deadly seriousness. 

“I know.” Cold sweat was starting to accumulate on the back of Clyde’s neck. “I um. Don’t have any mon-“

“I’ll pay for it,” Craig said, frustration starting to seep into his tone. “I owe you anyway.”

Clyde’s mouth opened and shut noiselessly for a moment.

“You’ve owed me since second grade.”

“And?”

Clyde cleared his throat. “I appreciate it- but I- there’s just- what are you doing?”

Craig had begun taking slow, advancing steps, causing Clyde to stumble until his back hit the lockers with a hollow clang.

“It’s Taco Tuesday, Clyde.”

“You keep saying tha-“

“I gave you your chances,”

“My what!?” Clyde frantically looked around the empty hallway. “Why do you have duct tape!?”

“But you’ve brought this on yourself,” Craig finished.

The sound of a long stretch of tape unsticking from the roll ripped through the air.

* * *

 

It simply should not have been possible for Craig to physically overpower Clyde, who was considerably more athletic and, as noted, heavier. However he had in the past entertained theories that Craig Tucker was, in fact, not entirely human, and the evidence was progressively mounting.

Regardless of the means Clyde soon found himself held hostage in a plastic booth, watching in horror as Craig ordered a combo platter from an indifferent staff.

“Dude, listen,” Clyde said, rubbing his reddened wrists where the tape had taken off several layers of skin. “I don’t know what’s going on-“

“You know exactly what’s going on,” Craig said, the very image of calm. “You’ve barely eaten fuck all this entire week. I swear if this is to do with that stupid goddamn list I’m going to find and force-feed it to you too.”

He was going to _what_? 

“Okay look, it’s really not what you think,” Clyde was trying desperately not to panic but the stoic intensity Craig was giving him was seriously putting him on edge. He might have begun to tremble.

“Really,” Craig said, looking supremely unimpressed.

“I just downsized my portions. I was still eating!”

“Cutting 50% and throwing it to Kenny and your dog isn’t downsizing shit, Donovan.”

“I wasn’t - I just…“ Clyde withered under Craig’s uncompromising stare. “… I ranked below _Butters_ , man.”

Craig didn't even blink. “You of all people should know there’s a market for dudes that look like chicks.” 

Their ticket number was called and he wasted no time laying the sizable tray between them. The sight of cheap, greasy knock-off Mexican food literally brought tears to Clyde’s eyes.

“Jesus Christ, Clyde.” 

“I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Well let me make it easy for you: you are not leaving until _every_ last piece of this garbage is in your body,” Craig said. “You can either eat it, or use your imagination for the alternative.”

Clyde looked fearfully from his friend to the food for several seconds, but Craig’s icy glare left no room for argument. 

Eating went slowly at first, with shaky reluctance, but a love for tacos was coded into the fibers of Clyde’s being. He hadn’t fully realized until then how truly deprived he’d been feeling the past week. Craig stoically watched as the food began to disappear, still not caring what the scene must have looked like to the outside observer. 

As Clyde swallowed down the last bite with honest to god tears running down his face, Craig coldly intoned,

“If you _ever_ try that shit again, I’ll kick your ass into next week and pipe the food down your throat myself.”

Clyde sniffled into his jacket sleeve with a weak “Okay,” and Craig gave a satisfied nod. 

“Good. Thank fuck that’s over.”

* * *

 

“You did what!?” Token looked like he was on the verge of an aneurysm, hands clutching his head like he couldn’t believe his ears. “ _What!?_ ”

“Calm your tits, yeesh.” Craig rolled his eyes. “I told you, I handled everything.”

“You handled…” Token looked from Craig to Clyde, who was crying into Jimmy’s shirt on the Blacks’ game room couch.

Jimmy, for his part, was suffering through it with dignity. Clyde really wasn’t the prettiest crier - he got loud and flushed and his instinct seemed to be to embrace the nearest person and hide his face in them. It was a universally painful experience.

“Craig!” Token flailed for his words. “You just can’t _do_ that!”

Craig looked at him, brow pinched in annoyance. “Why not? Fucker had an eating disorder, I made him eat. Job done.”

Token covered his face and seemed to be trying to wake up from what could only be a bizarre dream.

“I don’t have an eating disorder!” Clyde said, still clinging to Jimmy’s shirt. “It’s all a stupid misunderstanding!”

Craig fixed Token with an ‘are you going to believe him or me’ look, and for a moment Token faltered.

“Well… maybe you didn’t have an _eating disorder_ , but suddenly halving your intake probably isn’t healthy bro,” Token said before rounding on Craig. “Not that randomly forcing you to eat a massive plate of shitty tacos is any fucking better.”

“Well excuse me, but I didn’t see you pitching ideas when Clyde was giving food away and looking like death.”

“M-maybe you could have t-t-talked to him first?” Jimmy said. “Hey C-Clyde. W-w-why did you do it?”

“He did it because that dumb list ranked him in the bottom five,” Craig said. “It’s bullshit. He doesn’t even need to lose weight.”

Clyde hiccuped. “But-“

“Shut up. Forget what those stupid girls said, alright? You’re cute. Your weight is cute. You’re cuter than Butters, or Kevin, or whoever the hell else. You are cute as fuck.” Craig hesitated, feeling three sets of eyes on him. “… No homo.”

Immediately the tension dissipated.

Clyde wiped his eyes. “You really think so?”

“Yeah, whatever.” Craig suddenly looked incredibly tired.

“And you guys… don’t think I’m a loser?”

He received three empty stares. Craig looked particularly nonplussed.

“Is that a trick question?” He looked to Token and Jimmy for answers. “The hell does that even mean?”

“Sorry. I just.” Clyde sat up and Jimmy gave a barely audible sigh of relief. “The thing is that I was _so_ not against the girls passing me around like a cheap prop - actually that sounds awesome - but I’d kinda of imagined it a little differently y’know? Like, not only did they just want shoes, but even _that_ wasn’t enough. They had to make up some fake list to justify even coming close enough to use me, and… I know that never would have happened to any of you guys.”

He wrung his hands together and avoided everyone’s eyes.

“So I got to thinking. Everybody loves you guys, or they respect you a lot, and sometimes it feels like you’re all _so_ cool. And I’m just nobody. Nothing special, you know?” 

There was a long stretch of silence.

“You’re a goddamn idiot who should never try thinking again,” Craig said finally. “What the actual fuck, Clyde.”

Clyde ducked his head away. “Sorry.”

“Fuck your sorry. That’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard. I should kick your ass.”

“What Craig means is that you’re our friend for a reason. Lots of reasons. You’re one of the only assholes in this town that are actually trustworthy and has a reliable moral compass,” Token said. “You’re not nobody.”

“You’re cool, and f-funny, a-and your build is why you give the best h-h… _hugs_ ,” Jimmy added. “W-when you’re. Dry.”

“You’re pretty gullible and dense. And a crybaby,” Craig said, eyes straying to Jimmy’s stained shirt. “But I would think it’s obvious that if I’m willing to put up with all your shit regardless, it’s because you’re fun to hang with.”

Clyde swallowed, trying to hold back a new onslaught of tears.

“Oh.”

“Girls are dumb,” Craig said definitively. “I don’t know why you give a damn what they think.”

“I still don’t think you deserved to be in the bottom five,” Token said. “But if it counts for anything, I’d say reading porn in the library and crying during recess probably knocks you down a few rungs more than your weight does.”

“Yes. For the love of god, please stop crying.”

“P-p-p.” Jimmy took a breath. “Please.”

“Okay,” Clyde wiped his eyes on his sleeve. “…Thanks guys.”

“Whatever. Can we stop talking about our feelings now? This is so gay.” Craig flopped onto the couch, game controller in hand. 

“Sure.” Clyde watched as the game system booted up. “Can I hug you?”

“No. Fuck off.” A moment passed before Craig glanced at Clyde in his periphery. “… Clean your damn face first.”

“P-pussy.”

* * *

 

Upon returning to school, just about everything went back to normal. Clyde would’ve felt guilty ending his arrangement with Kenny, so he fessed up to his mom about sharing food and wound up getting extra in his lunchbox. No more words were spoken about weight or the list, although Token was probably going to hold what he called “the most tactless thing you could’ve possibly done” over Craig’s head for a while. 

He looked particularly unamused when Craig was missing at recess.

“Is he in the principal’s office again?” Clyde asked, scanning the playground for their missing friend.

“Yep.”

“What’d he do this time?”

“Brought a sampler pot of paint to school and poured it on Bebe Stevens’ shoes,” Token said, sitting on the roundabout and staring dead-eyed into the middle distance.

“Oh,” Clyde said, suddenly feeling awkward. “He shouldn’t have done that."

“Aka the subheader of Craig’s life story.”

“It was f-f-funny though,” Jimmy said.

"... It does sound kinda funny."

Clyde would be lying if he said he wasn't still a little down, but at least he no longer felt like the odd one out in his group. It didn’t matter if other people thought he and Craig didn’t fit as friends, or if he was seen as the generic one in the gang. The others didn’t think of him that way. That was the important thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this took longer than expected. Will do more Craig's Gang stuff in the future, because. I love them. I'll also probably write some real Creek at some point.


End file.
